


A Place To Rest

by vulcanhighblood



Series: Sharingan-Stealer Iruka [6]
Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Family, Found Family, Fuuinjutsu Master Umino Iruka, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Injury Recovery, Kid Uchiha Itachi, Kid Uchiha Sasuke, Kid Umino Iruka, Pre-Canon, Team Two Umino Iruka, Uchiha Itachi Being a Good Brother, Umino Iruka Needs a Hug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-13
Updated: 2021-03-13
Packaged: 2021-03-21 17:34:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,052
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30025371
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vulcanhighblood/pseuds/vulcanhighblood
Summary: Umino Iruka finally gets out of the hospital after his first C-rank mission ended... badly.Unfortunately, the healing wound in his abdomen turns out to be the least of his worries when he finds out he's no longer welcome at the orphanage.Fortunately, he has a Genin teammate who knows just the place for him to rest and recuperate.
Relationships: Uchiha Itachi & Uchiha Shisui & Umino Iruka, Uchiha Itachi & Umino Iruka, Uchiha Shisui & Umino Iruka
Series: Sharingan-Stealer Iruka [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1899430
Comments: 14
Kudos: 71
Collections: Iruka Week 2021





	A Place To Rest

**Author's Note:**

> For Iruka Week Day 6: Family

Grinning, Iruka marched out of Konoha hospital, glancing over to the medic who was holding his mission pack. “I can take that now,” he offered. 

The medic scowled, hefting it in one hand and considering it for several seconds. “I’d rather you didn’t,” she said. “It’s a bit heavy, and you’re still in recovery.” 

Iruka scowled. “I’ll be fine,” he argued. “I’ve been lying in bed for two days, I’m sure my stomach will be fine.”

“Three days,” the medic corrected with a glower. “You were unconscious from chakra exhaustion for the first day.”

Iruka waved the point aside like a pesky fly. “Yeah, yeah,” he said. “But if I don’t carry it, no one will.” 

“You’re supposed to be resting for the next three days.” The medic narrowed her eyes pointedly at Iruka. “Have someone from home come pick it up.”

From the orphanage? There was no way Eriko was going to come sign out his stuff from the hospital. He might as well wait until he was healed enough to carry it himself. Iruka opened his mouth to argue in favor of just taking the bag now when he remembered Itachi’s parting words during his visit the day before. Maybe this was an opportunity to trust his team more? “Could someone from my Genin team pick it up?” Iruka asked.

The medic nodded slowly. “We can send word to your Jonin-sensei or a teammate.”

“Could you inform Minazuki Yuuki-sensei?” Iruka asked, before adding as an afterthought, “...or Uchiha Itachi?”

The medic’s eyebrows lifted slightly at the clan name. “On a team with an Uchiha, huh?” she grimaced a little. “That sucks.” 

Iruka frowned. “What do you mean?” he asked, not liking the look on her face when she’d said  _ Uchiha. _ He’d seen that look before, and it left him feeling suddenly protective of his teammate. What was so bad about the Uchiha clan?

“Oh, it’s nothing much,” the medic said flippantly, “It’s just… they made a lot more work for us by not fighting the Kyuubi on the night of the attack. I’m not the only one who thinks there were too many needless deaths because Uchiha shinobi weren’t out there on the front lines. Kinda’ selfish, y’know?”

Iruka wanted to argue that point, but he couldn’t, because he didn’t really know what had happened that night, besides… his stomach clenched uncomfortably, and Iruka tried to shove down the sick feeling in his gut that tended to appear whenever someone talked about that night. Even as he tried to brush it aside, he had the feeling that he’d heard similar comments before. Iruka frowned a little, thinking about what that might mean. Iruka had become pretty unpopular with adults since the Kyuubi attack due to his… er… extra-curricular activities. He hadn’t realized that Itachi might be unpopular too, simply because of his clan. He wasn’t sure he liked that. Itachi certainly didn’t deserve it, he was way too young to have done anything that night and he was always reminding Iruka about the importance of teamwork. Which reminded Iruka that he was in the middle of a conversation. 

“Anyway,” Iruka said, not really wanting to start an argument with someone who was holding onto his mission pack, “Could you let them know? I’ll be at the orphanage.”

The medic nodded, already turning to go back inside. “Sure.”

With that, Iruka began trudging his way across the village. After about five minutes he was glad he hadn’t been given his pack. Every step jostled his stomach, reminding him that while the medics had healed the worst of his injury with chakra, he was still going to need a week of recovery before getting back to training, and at least three days of bedrest. As he made his way up the orphanage steps, he sighed, looking forward to changing his clothes. He was still wearing the change of clothes he’d brought in his mission pack, as his old ones had been stabbed and bloodied and weren’t going to be much use anymore. But these were his mission gear, and he wanted to keep them in good condition for as long as he could, so a change of clothes was in order.

Iruka pulled open the orphanage door, wandering down the hall. Most of the kids were gone to school, but there were always a few stragglers wandering around. As he walked past the door to the office, though, he heard someone pointedly clear their throat before saying, “Iruka? What are you doing here?”

Iruka paused, turning to the office. Eriko was inside, seated at what he still thought of as Naho’s desk. “I’m back from my Mission,” Iruka said. “I was a little late because I was hospitalized for three days, but…”

Eriko gave Iruka a sharp look before glancing at her calendar on the wall. “Remind me what day it is, Iruka,” she said, turning to stare even harder. 

Iruka frowned at the calendar. “…May twenty-ninth?” he said slowly. 

“And how old are you now?” Eriko asked snidely.

Iruka felt his stomach clench in sudden realization. “Thirteen.”

“And so I ask again,” Eriko sneered, tapping on Naho’s desk to punctuate each phrase as she spoke. “What. Are you. Doing. Here?”

Iruka cringed. He  _ knew _ kids were emancipated at age thirteen. The orphanage didn't have the space or funding for older kids. But usually the kids were given a grace period of about a month to find somewhere else to go. Apparently Eriko wasn’t feeling charitable, though, and there was no rule that said she  _ had _ to give him time to find somewhere else to stay. 

“Can I get my stuff?” Iruka asked. 

“It’s all here,” Eriko lifted a box, setting it on the desk and glaring at Iruka. 

“I have a few other things hidden from younger kids,” Iruka said. “Can I go get them?”

Eriko reached out, plucking a small hourglass from her desk and setting it down sharply. “Ten minutes,” she said, tapping a mark on the glass. “If you’re late, you’re not keeping any of it.”

Iruka didn’t wait to hear more threats. He  _ ran _ down the hallway for the dormitory he’d been put in after being kicked out of his room, ignoring the pain in his stomach as he crawled into the vents, wriggled under the bed, shoved open one of the loose floorboards, scooping up his things in his arms and racing back to the front office. He wasn’t sure how much time had passed but he was pretty sure he’d gotten everything. He burst into the office, panting for breath, trying not to show Eriko how much pain he was in because she’d probably just tell him he deserved it and come up with some other way to make it worse.

Eriko tapped the clock. “And only a minute to spare,” she commented. “Cutting it rather close, aren’t we?”

Iruka dumped his armful of stuff into the box Eriko had moved to the doorway while he’d been gone. “Anything else?” he asked. “The money from my parents?” 

“You’ll get your money once the investigation team is able to identify who stole it and why,” Eriko replied with a sniff. “Haven’t you got any money from your  _ missions?” _

Iruka had only been on one C-rank mission so far, D-ranks didn’t pay hardly anything, and he’d just paid for 3 nights in a hospital. But Eriko knew this. She just didn’t care. “Right,” Iruka said, gingerly picking up the box. Ugh. Between all the running and crawling and now the heavy lifting, his gut was doing its best to remind him he’d been stabbed three days ago. “Bye, I guess.”

“Good-bye, Iruka,” Eriko said, a cruel smile stretching across her features. “Good luck out there.”

Iruka didn’t bother answering, turning and walking back out of the orphanage. He made it about a block away before he had to set the box down. After that, he realized he didn’t know where he was going. Normally he might go see if he could crash at Anko’s place, but she had told him she was going on a two-week-long mission the day before he’d left, so she wouldn’t be back for at least four more days. 

Sinking to the ground, Iruka curled up, pulling his knees to his chin, trying to think. He had a box full of stuff and nowhere to go. His stomach hurt, so he couldn’t carry it very far, and he only had a little money in his coin purse. Maybe he could stay the night at an inn? It was cheaper than staying in the hospital, at least. Iruka tried to remember if there was an inn nearby, but it wasn’t the sort of landmark he usually noted in his day-to-day activities. 

Closing his eyes, Iruka rested his forehead on his knees and breathed. His stomach still hurt, and a small part of him was beginning to wonder if he’d done something to set back his healing with that mad scramble through the orphanage. Would Eriko really have thrown out his stuff if he hadn’t made it back in ten minutes? Iruka grimaced. He wouldn’t put it past her, and that had been enough of a threat to keep him moving until he got out. Now that he was out, though, he just wanted to curl up and sleep for a week, or at least until his stomach stopped hurting. 

“Iruka?”

Iruka lifted his head to see who was talking to him and met the gaze of Itachi, who had Iruka’s mission pack slung over one shoulder and a concerned look on his face. 

“What are you doing here?” his teammate asked, frowning at Iruka as he shifted Iruka’s mission pack to his other shoulder. “Were you too tired to get to the orphanage? Do you need help walking there?”

Iruka resisted the urge to laugh, too afraid it would turn into a sob halfway through. “I don’t need help getting to the orphanage,” he said, considering standing but deciding he didn’t feel quite up to it yet. 

Itachi tilted his head a little, staring hard at Iruka. “So why aren’t you there, then?” he asked. “It’s only a block away, we can go together.”

Iruka tried not to sound too bitter when he answered Itachi. “No, we can’t,” he said.

“We can’t?” Itachi repeated, slowly setting Iruka’s mission pack down beside his box of things and crouching down so he was eye-to-eye with Iruka. “Why can’t we?”

“My birthday was three days ago,” Iruka said, noting the look of confusion crossing Itachi’s face at the apparent non-sequitur. He explained, “Thirteen-year-olds aren’t allowed to stay at the orphanage. They kicked me out.”

Itachi’s shoulders stiffened, his eyes flashing as he listened. After a long moment of silence, he said, “But you’re injured.”

“I know,” Iruka said. “So do they.”

“You don’t have anywhere else to go,” Itachi protested.

“I know,” Iruka repeated. “They know that, too.”

“Is this your stuff?” Itachi asked, pointing to the box Iruka had carried. His eyes narrowed even further. “Did they make you  _ carry _ it even though you’re supposed to be on bedrest?”

Iruka didn’t bother responding because the answer to that question was literally sitting next to him. 

“What are you going to do?” Itachi asked, gazing at Iruka with concern. 

Iruka shrugged one shoulder. “I could sleep on a park bench, probably.” He thought about it for a second, and grimaced. “I know a few ANBU who might not approve, though. And they’re big enough jerks that -”

“Iruka, please stop insulting ANBU in broad daylight where anyone can hear you,” Itachi cut him off with a sigh. “I  _ will _ break your arm.”

“I’m injured,” Iruka shot back, not really worried but protesting anyway. “You’d break the arm of an injured comrade?”   
  
“If he was being stupid and antagonizing ANBU again? Yes,” Itachi replied in a no-nonsense tone, before his expression softened. “But seriously. You can’t sleep on a park bench.”

Iruka fought the urge to snap, only mostly succeeding. “Well, what else am I supposed to do?”

Slowly, Itachi rose to his feet, considering Iruka for a long moment before his expression hardened. “Come home with me,” he said, picking up Iruka’s mission pack again and slinging it over his shoulder. “You can stay in the guest room until you find somewhere else to live.”

Iruka blinked. “What? No, I couldn’t do that. Don’t you need to ask your parents first?”

“I’ll tell them what’s happening when we get there.” Itachi buckled the waist strap for Iruka’s mission pack, then crouched down, picking up Iruka’s box of things from the orphanage with a grunt. The box had to be at  _ least _ half his body weight, the kid was tiny! 

Iruka wanted to tell him to put it down and  _ think _ about what he was doing, but all that came out of his mouth was, “Wait, but - are you sure?”

“Can you stand?” Itachi asked, completely ignoring Iruka’s protests.

Iruka nodded slowly.

“Can you walk?”

Again, Iruka nodded.

“Then let’s go,” Itachi declared, turning and marching back down the street, carrying Iruka’s box of things in his arms and his mission pack on his back. 

For a moment, Iruka just stared after him before groaning to himself and slowly standing. He had a feeling it wasn’t going to be as simple as Itachi made it out to be, but maybe he could find a nice bench to sleep on in the Uchiha district? Or maybe he’d spot an inn on the way there. Either way, he couldn’t stay in this alley for the rest of the night, so he wandered after Itachi, trying not to jostle his stomach any more than he already had.

* * *

Itachi marched the two of them up to the front of his house. Iruka hadn’t felt nearly as unwelcome walking through the Uchiha Clan District this time, and assumed it was because he was walking with an actual Clan member. That didn’t make Iruka feel less nervous about walking into Itachi’s home with zero notice.

“I’m home,” Itachi called as he walked into the entryway, setting the box down on the floor of the interior with a grunt before unhooking Iruka’s mission pack and perching it atop the box.

“Welcome home,” came a baritone voice from deeper in the house - probably Itachi’s dad, Fugaku. It sounded similar to the voice of the man who’d come to collect Itachi from T&I after Iruka had antagonized the wrong ANBU and dragged Itachi into it.

“Did you bring something back?” came a second voice, which Iruka definitely recognized as Itachi’s mom, Mikoto, who had been more than a little hostile to him the last time he’d dropped by, which had been when he’d dragged off a sleep-deprived Itachi to meet with the Sandaime hokage in a desperate attempt to thwart the orphanage thief. Clearly that hadn’t gone in Iruka’s favor, since the orphanage still wasn’t dealing with things well, and Iruka’s own support funds were still tied up in the red tape of bureaucracy while they tried to figure out who had skimmed most of the money from the Konoha Orphan fund and where the money had actually gone. 

“I suppose you could say that,” Itachi replied smoothly, slipping off his sandals and stepping inside, grabbing a pair of slippers for himself, and another pair, ostensibly for Iruka.

Cautiously, Iruka slid his feet into the slippers, feeling as though facing down enemy shinobi hadn’t been nearly as life-threatening as this day was shaping up to be. The nerves he was feeling at the prospect of facing both of Itachi’s parents just might finish him off where the Iwagakure-nin had failed. His stomach hurt, and he genuinely couldn’t tell if it was from the internal injuries that were still recovering, or if it was just stress.

Itachi picked up Iruka’s mission pack again, and hefted his box of things, staggering down the short hallway with them before nudging open the sliding door to the open room. Iruka felt as though his perception slowed to a crawl as he took in everything - the corridor, the open room where Uchiha Fugaku and Mikoto sat at the low table drinking tea. Sasuke, Itachi’s little brother, was also seated on a zabuton cushion, and there was another cushion and a fourth table setting clearly awaiting Itachi’s return. Iruka saw Itachi’s parents turn to look at his teammate, confusion crossing his mother’s face, while his father’s face remained stony and unyielding. 

“Why did you bring your teammate’s gear back home with you?” Mikoto asked, still sounding more curious than anything else. “I thought you were just going to drop it off at his room for him?” 

Itachi set down the box, laying the mission pack on top of it. “The situation has changed,” he said seriously, as though reporting a mission complication to a commanding officer, rather than a child trying to explain something to his parents. “Iruka doesn’t have a room anymore.” 

Now Fugaku reacted, his expression pinching slightly. “What’s he done this time?” he growled. “Is it another trip to the Intelligence Division?” 

Itachi shook his head. “No. He was evicted.”

“Was it another experimental project gone wrong?” Mikoto demanded. “I heard from Sasae-san that he was on probation for some sort of explosion.”

“No,” Itachi answered, as calmly and smoothly as when he’d first entered, though Iruka felt his heart sinking with every question. 

When you looked at the facts, he certainly didn’t seem like the sort of kid Itachi should be bringing home with him. Maybe it would be better if he just left now and didn’t create any more trouble for his teammate. He doubted Itachi’s parents would be at all pleased to offer a room to someone like him, and they’d probably just get mad at Itachi for making such a ridiculous request. 

“He aged out,” Itachi explained. “And because the Konoha Orphan Fund hasn’t been released yet, he doesn’t have any money besides our missions earnings. Which he had to spend on his hospital treatment.”

“Hm,” Fugaku said, sounding slightly mollified. “So you’re holding onto his things until he can find a place to store them?”

“Yes,” Itachi said. “And also, I was hoping we could hold onto  _ him, _ too, until he can find a place?”

Iruka saw the look that passed between Fugaku and Mikoto and felt his heart sink. He’d known it was too good to be true when Itachi had offered a place to stay. He’d seen a couple nice benches out in the Uchiha district, and there weren’t as many ANBU patrolling the area, so maybe he could sleep somewhere nearby. That would be useful for his next mission when he came to collect his things. Though he was still on mandatory bedrest for a few days, so he wasn’t sure exactly when his next mission would be. 

“Are you sure that would be wise?” Mikoto spoke first. “He’s… rather unruly, isn’t he?”

Itachi shrugged one shoulder. “He’s supposed to be on bedrest, hospital’s orders. He won’t be getting into much trouble if he has to stay in bed all day.”

“How is he going to find a new place to stay if he has no money and has to stay in bed all day?” Mikoto countered. “Please try to think things through, Itachi. I know your friend is very impulsive and thoughtless, but do try to avoid falling into similar habits. Birds of a feather often flock together, but you don’t need to let him drag you down to his level.”

Already more than willing to turn around and leave, Iruka felt like he’d been punched in the stomach. Which hurt more than usual, because, well, he was in _recovery._ But he hated the idea of being a burden on someone, he’d already done his best to earn his keep at the orphanage - and there had been plenty of grumbling there about what the kids were really worth - but he hated the idea of being seen as _stupid,_ too. He may not have been a star pupil or genius like Itachi, but he wasn’t thoughtless and he wasn’t _dragging Itachi_ _down._

At least… he hoped he wasn’t. 

“Mother, please.” Itachi said, sounding disappointed. For a moment Iruka thought he was going to come to his defense, but Itachi had apparently settled on a different approach. “You know me better than that.” He glanced at his father, then back to his mother before continuing. “Clearly, since my Genin team will not be running missions during Iruka’s recovery, I will be splitting my time between training with Shisui and looking for alternate accommodations for my teammate.”

Fugaku lifted a solitary eyebrow. “Oh? Is that so?”

“I already arranged my training time with Shisui this morning,” Itachi explained. “As for Iruka’s situation, I’m well aware of his current limitations, and had already accounted for them before making my request. To have done otherwise would have been foolhardy.”

Fugaku’s eyes narrowed as he considered his eldest son for a long moment before finally admitting. “It would have been foolhardy, indeed.”

“While Iruka will be unable to train his body during his bedrest, he has several research tomes from the Sandaime Hokage’s own library. He has been using them to study fuuinjutsu, and will likely continue to study during his time resting.” Itachi lifted his chin ever-so-slightly. “Neither of us intend for this experience to result in a waste of time or resources, and I’m sure Iruka will have no trouble finding better accommodations once he has recovered and his own financial resources have been returned to him.” 

Considering Itachi had mentioned none of this during their walk over, Iruka could only assume that he was making up his arguments on the fly and was impressed at how quickly Itachi could turn the conversation to his favor. Iruka would obviously have no problem with studying - in fact, he’d been slowly working his way through the tome from the Intelligence Division’s front desk clerk, Ibiki, before his team had left on their first C-rank mission. He’d welcome the chance to start reading it again. 

“Hm,” Now it was Mikoto’s turn to narrow her eyes at Itachi. “Will you be able to balance your training with apartment hunting for your friend? I don’t want you to neglect your studies.”

“I will ask Shisui to help if I feel I’m unable to adequately perform the task on my own,” Itachi responded crisply. “But I feel confident in my abilities.” 

For a long moment, the room was silent, save for the soft slurping sound of Sasuke drinking his tea as he glanced back and forth between his parents and his older brother with wide, curious eyes. 

“Very well,” Fugaku finally said. “Bring him in.”

Itachi turned to Iruka, a bright smile lighting up his face as he turned. “You can stay here until you’ve recovered,” he informed him cheerfully.

Taking in the guarded expressions of Mikoto and Fugaku from behind Itachi, Iruka swallowed hard, forcing a grin of his own. “That’s great, thank you so much,” he told Itachi, shuffling forward until he’d entered the room, bowing deeply to the Uchiha clan head, moving slowly to try and avoid agitating his injury, with mixed success. “I am in your debt,” Iruka said.

“Hm,” Fugaku replied, sounding skeptical. “Welcome to my home.”

It sounded more like a threat than a greeting, but Iruka wasn’t in a position to be picky about his welcomes at this point. 

“I’ll go prepare the guest room,” Itachi said, picking up Iruka’s mission pack again and indicating the table. “Why don’t you sit down and have tea?” he suggested. “I’ll be right back.”

_ Don’t leave me alone with them, _ Iruka wanted to say, feeling the blood drain from his face at Itachi’s words. Instead, he nodded and cautiously lowered himself onto the zabuton cushion that had clearly been laid out for Itachi. “Thank you.”

Itachi nodded, picking up the box with another grunt of effort, and shuffling across the room to another door that led to a long wooden hall. He slid the door shut behind himself, and for a moment all that could be heard were his feet shuffling along the wooden slats. Iruka took a shallow breath, as deep breaths weren’t really an option at the moment, and turned to look at the two parents of his teammate, sitting across from him. He wanted to say something, anything, but nothing came to mind, so he just stared blankly at them.

Finally, Mikoto turned to him and asked, “Would you like some tea?”

“Yes please,” Iruka replied quickly, “thank you.” 

She picked up the teapot, pouring the tea into the empty cup that hadn’t been set for him (after all, he hadn’t been expected, he wasn’t wanted here, wasn’t  _ really _ welcome here among the Uchiha. The feeling was not unfamiliar to Iruka, but that didn’t make it sting any less). Iruka waited until she was finished, and took a sip. He hadn’t realized how thirsty he was until after taking a drink, but it took all of his self control not to drink the entire cup in one sitting. Instead, he made himself set the cup down gently and force a bland smile on his face. His vaguely polite expression was mirrored in the expressions of Itachi’s parents, who were clearly displeased to be playing host to him, and equally displeased that their son had refused to take ‘no’ for an answer.

He hoped Itachi would be back soon.

* * *

After an incredibly stressful teatime with Uchiha Fugaku and Mikoto, Iruka was allowed to leave the room and follow Itachi to a room twice as big as his orphanage room had been, before he’d been kicked out for ‘reckless pranking’ and moved into a shared bunkroom. He still maintained that his itch tag trap had provided some sort of useful information for the orphanage thief investigation, though if he were being truly honest with himself… yeah, well, the point was that the Uchiha guest room was much nicer than any accomodations he'd had in the years since the Kyuubi attack had leveled his childhood home and killed both his parents. 

Itachi stood and scowled at him, his soft features really not built for any sort of intimidating expressions, making Iruka desperately fight the urge to coo and pinch Itachi’s cheeks. But he’d gone out on a limb for Iruka, and it seemed like bad form to tease someone who had offered you a place to stay. So instead, Iruka cautiously thanked Itachi.

“You  _ will _ rest,” Itachi said. “You weren't even supposed to walk that far, and you carried your box, too.”

“It wasn’t that bad walking here,” Iruka quickly assured Itachi. “Really, the running and crawling to collect my stuff hurt a lot worse.” 

Itachi’s left eye twitched as he stared at Iruka for several long seconds, as though weighing his options before responding. Finally, he said, “You had better have a good reason for doing something that stupid.” 

Iruka shrugged one shoulder. “Eriko gave me a ten-minute time limit, said she’d throw away anything left in her office after ten minutes. I figured dumpster diving again would hurt worse.”

Itachi made a face, his cute nose wrinkling up in memory of the time their Genin team had been forced to dig through the orphanage dumpster to find Iruka’s seals and exploding tag research materials and books. “I don’t like it,” he said, “But I guess you didn’t have a choice. Now you do.  _ Don’t  _ leave your room unless you have to. The bathrooms are at the end of the hall.” Itachi pointed. “The toilet is the door to the right.” he pointed again. “If you get hungry or thirsty, the kitchen is that way,” he pointed another direction. “Now, get some rest, okay?”

Iruka nodded, not sure how to break it to Itachi that his family was so intimidating that he was far more likely to ignore basic survival instincts in order to stay in this room to continue hiding from the other Uchiha family members. “Thanks again,” he said, not sure how else to express his gratitude. The words felt empty, too little to fully describe the weight of what Itachi had done for him. But words were all he had, so they would have to suffice. 

Itachi nodded, turning and sliding the door shut. After some consideration, Iruka felt bad about crawling into bed when he was still sweaty from his mad dash through the orphanage. So he cautiously gathered up his sleep clothes and a ratty old towel, and slunk to the end of the hall to take a quick bath. 

Thanks to the chakra healing, he didn’t have a bandage or anything to keep dry. Most of the recovery had been sped up, using chakra to mend the damage done by walking around with a knife sticking out of his gut for several minutes. But the muscles and organs were still tender, adjusting to the rapid repairs. It took a few days for the swelling to go down, too, because the body was trying to treat an injury that no longer existed. 

But he had been allowed to take a bath in the hospital, so he assumed it was fine here too. There were a lot of fancy soaps and weird gels in the bath area, but Iruka stuck to the basics, washing his body and scrubbing some of the sweat away from his scalp with a lathering of shampoo. 

Once he was done, he soaked in the bath for a few minutes before feeling nervous about encountering someone besides Itachi while he was soaking. He got back out, as carefully and gently as he could manage, mostly because Itachi seemed to have a sixth sense about when Iruka wasn’t taking his advice, and  _ loved _ to scold his ear off about it. 

Iruka changed into his sleep clothes and padded back down the hall to his guest room, curling up on a delightfully soft futon and falling asleep almost instantly. He awoke several hours later, ravenously hungry and parched. He remembered that he hadn’t eaten since breakfast at the hospital, and he’d only had a cup of tea since then to keep him going. But he also remembered the sharp stare of Uchiha Fugaku while he drank his tea, the clear disapproval in Mikoto’s eyes as she stared at him. 

He wasn’t  _ that _ hungry, he decided. He could wait a few more hours, probably. 

Deciding this, he closed his eyes and tried to sleep again, but his stomach grumbled. He ignored it for several minutes, and was just nearing his breaking point when a soft knock sounded at the door, which slid open a moment later to reveal Itachi with a tray of food. 

“I brought this for you,” he said, “Since you slept through lunch. And dinner.” 

“Oh, thank you,” Iruka said, slowly sitting up, wincing as he did. Apparently the sleep had just given his body the chance to coordinate its efforts to remind him of why running around an orphanage digging into hidey-holes was a bad idea when you were recovering from a recent stab wound. 

Itachi set the tray on a low table at the end of Iruka‘s futon. “I’ll be back with tea,” he promised, easing back out of Iruka’s room before he could even say anything. 

When Itachi returned, Iruka was quick to thank him, and Itachi hovered around him awkwardly while Iruka lowered himself cautiously into the floor chair at the low table. Itachi sat with him, settling in a cushion and watching Iruka eat.

Desperate to find a topic to discuss, Iruka asked, “How’s Sasuke?”

“He’s glad I’m home,” Itachi admitted, “Especially since he was sad to see me go for such an extended time during our C-rank mission.”

“I’m glad you can spend time together,” Iruka said, smiling to himself at the way Itachi’s eyes lit up when he spoke about his brother. 

“I am, too. Sasuke doesn’t really like the sitter my parents use when I’m away,” Itachi added with a sigh. “He’s very cautious about people, especially strangers.”

Iruka frowned a little as he considered that comment. “Really?” he asked. “He seemed to warm up to me pretty fast, though.”

“That’s because we’re friends, and Sasuke trusts my judgement,” Itachi informed him haughtily. 

Iruka ducked his head, feeling his face heat with a mixture of pride and self-consciousness. For some reason, he expected Itachi to continue disliking him after their rough start in the academy, so it always took him by surprise when Itachi would put the extra effort in to show Iruka that he cared. That he valued their friendship. Iruka didn’t have many people in his life like that, people who loved him like… 

Like Family.

“Are you finished?” Itachi asked, eyeing Iruka’s tray of food with skepticism. “You’ve only eaten half.”

“I’ll finish it,” Iruka said, poking at the rest of his food. Itachi had brought a  _ lot, _ though, and between hospital food, mission rations, and the scant meals at the orphanage, Iruka wasn’t used to having this much food in a single sitting. He managed to scoot the food around his plate twice more before Itachi stood with a huff. 

“If you’re finished, I’ll take it back to the kitchen,” he said sharply. 

“I’m finished,” Iruka said, glancing at Itachi sheepishly. “Thanks.”

“Get some more sleep,” Itachi commanded, moving back across the room and heading down the hall with Iruka’s tray. He returned not much later with a cup of water and a small pitcher to refill it. “Rest,” he told Iruka, glaring at him until Iruka laid back down in the futon and tugged the blanket back up to his chin. “I’ll see you in the morning.” 

“Yeah,” Iruka said faintly, already growing sleepy, the food settling comfortably in his stomach as he lay back and relaxed into the soft mattress. “See you in the morning.”

* * *

The soft slide of a door woke Iruka some hours later. He peeled one eye open, expecting to see Itachi, but instead, the small, tottering form of Sasuke entered his room. 

Iruka forced his other eye open, carefully easing the blankets back and scooting around until he was sitting up. He glanced at the small boy, who gazed back at him with dark, fathomless eyes. He really did look a lot like Itachi, the family resemblance really strong, especially in their eyes. There was probably a good reason for that, too, Iruka reflected. “Good morning, Sasuke,” Iruka said with a grin, watching the toddler as the boy crossed the room towards him. “Did you come to say hello?” 

“Big brother goed with Shisui,” Sasuke told him, a pout on his face. “Play with me?” 

Iruka considered the request. “What do you want to play?” 

“Wanna play ninja,” Sasuke declared. 

Iruka grimaced. That probably wouldn’t qualify as bedrest. Unless…

“You’ve been learning to write, haven’t you?” he asked Sasuke with a grin. 

“I can write really good,” Sasuke told him with the absolute confidence of a small child.

“Maybe we can practice  _ ninja writing,” _ Iruka suggested, leaning forward and whispering the words like they were an exciting secret.

Sasuke’s eyes grew wide.  _ “Ninja _ writing?” he repeated.

Iruka nodded, pointing to his box of personal items. “I have some paper and ink in there,” he said. “Why don’t you bring yours here, and we can write together at the table.”

Sasuke nodded eagerly, turning and rushing out of the room on the unsteady legs of an eager child. Iruka was just grateful he didn't hear the boy trip and fall on his way out - he would have felt terrible.

While he waited for the boy to return, Iruka dug into his box, withdrawing his ink, brushes, and a fuuinjutsu fundamentals text on loan from the Sarutobi Family library, a tome that he was relatively familiar with at this point. He then turned to his mission pack, which held the last of his chakra paper. He'd brought it with him on his C-rank mission, which had ended with him sporting a fancy new kunai in his abdomen, courtesy of an Iwagakure spy. He’d used most of the paper to prepare for the mission, but he still had a few sheets left and was looking forward to restocking his pack with his own exploding tag modifications and revisions. Maybe he'd make a few extra tags to give to Itachi as thanks for letting him stay. He wasn’t sure when he would be able to afford more chakra paper, but he felt like he owed Itachi  _ something, _ anyway.

Besides, most of the chakra paper had been a gift from Shisui. Iruka was starting to think he owed the Uchiha Family an awful lot, and wasn’t sure how he felt about being so deeply in their debt. He trusted Itachi, of course, and Shisui had seemed nice enough, but Iruka wasn’t sure he trusted Mikoto and Fugaku to provide support without strings attached. 

But that was for future Iruka to worry about. Current Iruka was just glad he’d spent the night in a soft bed and not huddled on a park bench. He laid out his chakra paper, some spare sheets of normal paper he used to test his seal designs before taking them to the practical test of chakra paper, and his ink. By the time he was done arranging his supplies, he heard the soft pitter-patter of approaching slippers, and Sasuke burst into the room a moment later. He held up a sketch book and brush set victoriously. 

Iruka grinned at him, indicating the seat across from him at the low table. “Sit down and we can start!” he said with a grin.

Sasuke plunked down his paper and brushes before gazing expectantly up at Iruka. “Show me ninja writing!” he demanded.

Iruka flipped through the Sarutobi reference book until he found a relatively simple-looking, harmless-sounding seal. It was designed to protect secrets and could be used to disguise false bottoms in drawers, chests, or other forms of storage. He tried to copy it down quickly, but before he could, Sasuke was tugging on his arm.

“Is that ninja writing?” he asked, leaning over so he could look at the book. “I wanna see!” he reached for the book, and Iruka had to lift the book away to avoid Sasuke’s hands, which had somehow picked up some ink, probably from his brushes, which didn’t appear to be the cleanest. 

“It’s ninja writing, but I just needed to check something,” Iruka said, shoving the paper he’d been copying the seal onto in Sasuke’s face. “See? This is what we’re going to practice making.”

Sasuke made a face at the paper. “Lemme see!” he insisted, grabbing for the book again.

Frantically, Iruka closed the book and sat on it, mentally apologizing to the Hokage for mistreating a priceless text from the Sarutobi Family library. “Let’s start with this one,” he said, using one arm to hold Sasuke away from the book, which the kid was still trying to grab. “This is to help you keep secrets!”

Sasuke paused, lifting his eyes to stare at the paper Iruka had been copying the seal onto with new interest. “Ninja secrets?”

“Ninja secrets!” Iruka grinned, shaking the paper and setting it on the table between his own supplies and Sasuke’s sketch book. “Let’s practice it together, okay?”

“Okay,” Sasuke agreed, moving back to his seat, the Sarutobi Text blessedly forgotten. 

Iruka shifted on his new uncomfortable seat, not willing to rekindle Sasuke’s interest in the book just yet. “Okay, so you need to start at a point of power. Usually one of the corners, or the center of the paper are the most powerful points of contact,” Iruka explained, tapping the positions on his scratch paper to demonstrate. “For this one, you need to start in the top left corner, and work your way inwards. Let’s do that, okay?”

Sasuke nodded seriously, watching as Iruka carefully inscribed the first line of characters from the corner towards the center of the paper. He then picked up one of his own brushes, which turned out to be self-inking (probably where the ink on his hands had come from), and began his own “seal”, scribbling carefully from the top left corner towards the center. It was actually pretty impressive - a mostly-straight line, and Sasuke looked  _ so serious _ as he worked, the tip of his tongue poking out of the corner of his mouth as he hunched over the paper, occasionally glancing up to watch what Iruka was doing and mimic the movements with his own brush. 

Iruka waited until Sasuke had caught up with him before moving on. “Next, we’re going to start from the top right corner,” he said, and began the second set of characters. Again, Sasuke followed his lead, scribbling gibberish down the page in his best approximation of Iruka’s work. They continued for the next few minutes. Iruka wanted to work on his tags, too, but he didn’t want to risk Sasuke accidentally learning something that might actually work and be dangerous, so he stuck to the sorts of seals that probably would be harmless even if Sasuke were to accidentally draw them on chakra paper while channeling his chakra. 

The likelihood of such a thing happening was low, but Iruka didn’t want to take any chances with a kid like Sasuke, considering his genius brother’s high skill level. Knowing his luck, Sasuke would figure out how to channel chakra by age three and if Iruka taught him how to make exploding tags the first thing he would do is try them out and probably blow up his bedroom or something, and then Iruka would feel terrible about it and Mikoto and Fugaku would hate him even more than they probably already did. So he wasn’t going to be teaching Sasuke anything that could be interpreted as a destructive seal. Besides, the kid wasn’t even  _ really _ writing, he was just scribbling and pretending that it was the same as Iruka’s script. 

At least they were both having fun. Iruka could use the practice, and since he couldn’t take out the book without risking Sasuke’s inky hands grabbing for it again, he had to try and remember the seals that were designed for more harmless things, like defensive barriers or seals to conceal hidden items. Nothing that exploded, nothing that sealed things away, nothing that could damage or permanently alter the structure of the target. It was actually a good challenge, and Sasuke seemed to be having fun for the first few minutes. He got tired after awhile and started to “make his own” seals, which were basically just scribbled gibberish in random swirls and patterns on the sketch book paper. Iruka didn’t begrudge Sasuke the boredom - seals weren’t exactly the most engaging thing when you couldn’t read or sense chakra pathways. He wondered if that might change if Sasuke was able to awaken his Sharingan - Shisui had been interested in watching Iruka work with seals, and it seemed like his Sharingan could get a sense of what was happening with the chakra as it moved through the patterns. Since Sasuke was also an Uchiha, he had a decent chance of being able to awaken a sharingan at some point.

Iruka didn’t know much about the clan’s Kekkei Genkai - then again, those sorts of things were closely guarded secrets, so it made sense that he wouldn’t know much about it. All he really knew was that it was powerful, and that it was very painful to awaken - he hadn’t heard how painful, or what kind of pain, and he’d never been brave enough to ask Shisui about it - though he’d heard the young Jonin had awakened his Sharingan during the war, he hadn’t heard exactly how it happened, and it didn’t seem very polite to ask about such a thing. So he hadn’t.

“Iruka! Look!” Sasuke held up another page of scribbles. “This one can make a ninja  _ explode!” _

It… looked unsettlingly familiar to an exploding tag. Which was precisely what Iruka had been trying to avoid. Swallowing hard, he grinned at Sasuke nervously. “Oh yeah? Where’d you see a ninja tool like that?”

“Shisui and Itachi show me ninja stuff when we play,” Sasuke said proudly. “I remembered it!”

_ Yep, _ Iruka thought tiredly,  _ another Uchiha genius. _ At this point, he’d probably be more surprised if he met an Uchiha who  _ wasn’t _ a child prodigy, he reflected with a hint of bitterness. But that wasn’t fair, it’s not like Sasuke could help being smart any more than Iruka could help being a disaster child. Life wasn’t fair, and that went both ways. Some people were just… born brilliant.

At least Itachi was as kind as he was smart, Iruka reflected ruefully. He was a rules-stickler and got easily annoyed, but he was reliable and helpful, too. He could think of a lot more people who would be super annoying as a genius, and Itachi was only a little bit annoying, so honestly that made him pretty cool overall. 

“That’s a pretty cool one,” Iruka agreed, “But you gotta be careful with that, you don’t want to explode your house, do you?”

Sasuke’s eyes widened and he shook his head. 

“Maybe you should practice making the exploding ones later, when you’re somewhere safe,” Iruka suggested. “For now, let’s practice this one - it can hide the smell of things, like if you have stinky shoes,” he added with an overdramatic look, pinching his nose. “Then you don’t have to hold your nose,” he explained.

Sasuke giggled at Iruka’s funny voice, turning the page to once again try and copy Iruka’s seal, quickly forgetting about the  _ exploding tag _ he’d attempted to create in his sketchbook.

Iruka hoped Sasuke’s attempted exploding tag would remain forgotten. At least, until he entered the academy, anyway. 

* * *

A solid two hours had passed since Sasuke had wandered into Iruka’s room before they both heard a voice calling out. “Sasuke? Where are you?”

It sounded like a woman’s voice, so Iruka could only assume it was Mikoto. 

“In here!” he called, slowly easing to his feet. Sasuke watched him get up with curiosity, before turning back to his latest “seal” with renewed vigor.

Iruka heard feet shuffling down the hallway, and he slid the door open just as Mikoto Uchiha stepped up to his door, a surprised look crossing her features. “Sasuke is in  _ here?” _ she said, sounding both surprised and annoyed. 

Iruka wasn’t sure why, but suspected the annoyance had something to do with the fact that both of Itachi’s parents considered him a bad influence. They’d probably hate to see Iruka getting along with Sasuke as much as they hated him getting along with Itachi. Or something like that. “He wanted to play ninja,” Iruka explained, then pointed to Sasuke, who was still scrawling in his sketchbook with admirable focus. “So we practiced some sealing jutsus together.”

Mikoto’s expressions shifted from annoyance to confusion. “You made  _ seals?” _

Iruka shrugged. “I was practicing, Sasuke just followed along.”

Itachi’s mom seemed to consider that for a long moment, her expression tugging oddly like she couldn’t decide whether to be impressed or annoyed. “Sounds like you two had fun,” she finally decided, turning to Sasuke. “Come now, Sasuke, it’s time for your morning snack.”

Iruka noted with some interest that she didn’t bother asking if he’d had breakfast. Which, he hadn’t. And it had been about two hours now, so he was actually pretty hungry. But he also hated to be an imposition, and Mikoto clearly wasn’t interested in treating him like a guest. So he would just look in the kitchen and see if he could find anything, since that seemed to be what Itachi suggested he do. 

“Mom, look at my ninja writing! It’s to hide stinky shoes!” Sasuke giggled, holding up his sketchbook, his unique toddler interpretation of a scent-concealing seal front and center.

“An excellent start,” Mikoto praised in a cool tone. 

Iruka fought the urge to frown - she sounded about as enthusiastic as the orphanage staff had sounded whenever a kid showed them something they wanted to share. He didn’t really like the thought that the Uchiha Family was as closed off and cold as the orphanage staff had been.

Then again, at least Fugaku had been willing to come and pick up Itachi from T&I after Iruka had dragged him into a confrontation with a grumpy ANBU. Iruka’s orphanage staff had been willing to let him languish in the Intelligence Headquarters indefinitely, so at least the Uchiha were slightly more involved in their childrens’ lives than the orphanage staff had been in Iruka’s. Though honestly, that wasn’t exactly a difficult thing to accomplish, and Iruka wasn’t sure he’d consider that a compliment so much as a bare minimum. “Better than the orphanage” wasn’t exactly something to write home about, after all.

Sasuke was grinning ear-to-ear, though, so maybe the Uchiha Family were just… like that. Cold. Neutral. Critical. 

It sure explained a lot about Itachi, Iruka reflected ruefully. 

“Thank you for playing with my son,” Mikoto said then, turning to Iruka. “Would you like to join us for a snack?”

Iruka blinked in surprise before quickly replying. “Yes please, if it wouldn’t be too much trouble,” he said, as meekly as he could manage.

“It’s no trouble,” Mikoto assured him, turning to head back up the hall. “Come, Sasuke.”

“Okay!” Sasuke set his sketchbook back down and toddled after his mother. After a moment’s hesitation, Iruka followed both of them, pausing only to slide his feet into the soft slippers he’d left outside his door before shuffling behind them in the direction of the main room.

* * *

“Oh! Hey Iruka!” Shisui and Itachi were both seated at the table when Iruka stepped into the room, following behind Sasuke and Mikoto. Shisui was waving, a small grin tugging at his thin lips. “Heard you got stabbed on your C-rank mission. Tough break.”

“Yeah,” Iruka said sheepishly, scrubbing at his head. “I guess I need to get faster, so I can avoid those kinds of attacks in the future.”

“Ah, I wouldn’t beat yourself up over it too much,” Shisui said reassuringly. “From what Itachi told me, you held your own pretty well. I heard you threw together a barrier on the fly, too? And that’s the second time you’ve pulled a stunt like that, if you count the orphanage mission,” he added, sounding thoughtful. “Is that going to be your new combat signature?” His eyes were sparkling with amusement, and he was clearly teasing, but it was the kind of teasing where Iruka was expected to be in on the joke, not the butt of the joke.

“I dunno,” Iruka quipped back with a grin of his own. “Do you think barriers or exploding tags are cooler? I’m still deciding on a signature move.”

“Definitely explosions,” Shisui teased back before his expression grew less jovial. “In all seriousness though, I think you’re just proving what I’ve said before - you should really look into a Fuuinjutsu apprenticeship. From everything I’ve witnessed firsthand, or heard from Itachi, you have solid potential. It’d be a shame to let that go to waste.”

Iruka shuffled to the open seat next to Itachi, settling down between his teammate and Shisui with an awkward grin. He scrubbed at the back of his neck, feeling a bit self-conscious. The Uchiha jonin always seemed to be so complimentary, it made Iruka feel awkward - he wasn’t used to people noticing him or being impressed by his abilities. “I don’t know about an apprenticeship,” he said honestly, “But I got the offer to go over some of my work with that desk clerk at the Konoha Intelligence division.”

Shisui frowned thoughtfully. “Oh yeah? Who?”

“Uh… Ibiki?” Iruka wasn’t sure if the guy was even a jonin like Shisui or not. Maybe he wasn’t that powerful. He _was_ just a desk clerk, after all.  


Shisui had the sort of carefully neutral expression people often wore when they didn’t want Iruka to know what they really thought about something. Then, Shisui said, “Oh. Hmm. Interesting.” 

So basically, the most suspicious reaction ever. From the way Itachi shifted his weight beside Iruka, his teammate clearly agreed that this was a very odd reaction. Iruka instantly wondered how long after getting off bedrest it would take to arrange a meeting with Ibiki to ask about his background. Considering he was part of T&I, he probably wouldn’t get much from him. It still might be more than it looked like he would be able to get from Shisui. “Is that a problem?” he asked cautiously. “Is there a reason I shouldn’t share them with him?” He didn’t know Shisui all that well, but he’d always been kind, polite, and helpful to Iruka, even when most people didn’t care about him or bother to give him the time of day. 

“Oh! No, nothing like that,” Shisui said quickly, and it sounded like he meant it, none of the careful neutrality remained in his face or in his voice as he spoke. “But he’s not a seals expert,” he said, his voice growing softer. “His specialization is in  _ torture.” _

Iruka blinked in momentary surprise before the rest of his mind caught up. That made sense, actually. He couldn’t think of many reasons for a seals expert to be working the desk in the  _ Torture and Interrogations _ department, but Ibiki’s specialization was right there in the name. “I guess he’s always looking for new ideas, then,” Iruka said with a shrug, picking up the cup of tea Itachi had poured for him while Shisui was speaking. “I don’t mind picking his brain for new ideas in exchange.” 

Shisui nodded slowly, but his expression darkened. “I just don’t want you to be taken advantage of,” he said quietly. “What you can do is  _ extremely _ rare, and even more valuable. Even if you help him a lot, he doesn’t really have the training to give you the knowledge and experience you deserve in return.”

Iruka frowned slightly at that. “Ibiki knew that  _ he _ couldn’t give me knowledge personally,” he protested, “So he gave me a book.”

Shisui stared at Iruka for a long moment before shaking his head, an amazed smile tugging at his features. “I forget that you’re self-taught,” he said, amazement as clear in his voice as it was on his face. “I guess in a case like that, offering books in exchange wouldn’t be a bad start. I still think you need a master, though.”

Just as Iruka was about to reply, Mikoto set a plate of apples down at the table, the plate clattering loudly,  _ pointedly. _ Shisui glanced up at Sasuke and Itachi’s mother with a hint of surprise, but Iruka figured out pretty quickly why she would disrupt the conversation. For all his supposed skill, there were few people besides Shisui who recognized it as anything more than troublesome  _ pranks _ . The Sandaime seemed impressed by his ingenuity, so he’d been the first to really encourage Iruka. The T&I clerk - Ibiki - had found his modifications useful, so he’d given him another resource to improve and upgrade his skills. Itachi had recognized that Iruka’s skill with tags was an unusual approach. Shisui had seen the application for the tags beyond their capacity for pranks. Yuuki-sensei insisted on helping him test the efficacy of his new variations, and wanted him to do so safely.

But most people were more like Uchiha Mikoto. They just saw a troublemaker getting away with making messes and encouraging other people to get in trouble, too. Like when Iruka had dragged Itachi to T&I with him after mouthing off at an ANBU, or when his Genin team had been forced to dig through a dumpster because he’d set a trap in his room and gotten his things thrown away by the staff in retaliation.

People saw what they wanted to see, and most people looking at Iruka saw a troublemaker who would just cause trouble for the people around him. He was lucky that Itachi had been willing to see past his pranks, and that Shisui, despite being an Uchiha genius jonin, was open and curious enough to want to learn more, and nice enough to encourage Iruka to keep trying. 

“Thank you!” Sasuke chirped, grasping a large slice of peeled apple before turning to Itachi with a grin. “Iruka and me did ninja writing!”

“Ninja writing?” Itachi echoed, a hint of confusion brushing across his features, furrowing his eyebrows slightly. 

“Yeah!” Sasuke said, shoving half the apple in his mouth and chewing methodically.

Getting an answer from Sasuke would take awhile, so Iruka volunteered his own. “I was practicing my seals, and showed him how to make a few. He copied me at first, but kind of just did his own thing after a while.” 

“That’s great, Sasuke,” Itachi said encouragingly, glancing down at his brother, whose cheeks were puffed wide with his mouthful of apple. Sasuke gazed back up at him with clear adoration. 

Iruka wasn’t jealous. But part of him wished he had a brother, too. Maybe then he wouldn’t feel so alone all the time. 

Shaking away the strangely melancholy thoughts, Iruka grabbed an apple slice too, and popped it into his mouth, a smile tugging at his face as he did. He wasn’t actually lonely all the time. At least these days, he didn’t feel that empty ache in his chest nearly as often as he did when he’d first lost his parents, his home, and was left to fend for himself in the cold and unforgiving environment of Konoha Orphanage. He still felt lonely sometimes, of course, but those moments were growing shorter and less frequent all the time. He cast a quick glance in the direction of his Genin teammate, who took a sip of tea before returning his gaze with a slight raise of his eyebrows. Iruka couldn’t fight the grin that broke across his features at the look. He didn’t want to fight it. 

This smile wasn’t forced, or some impression of mirth he pasted on to hide how he really felt. Spending time with Itachi, his brother, and his cousin gave him a sense of warmth, belonging, and acceptance he hadn’t felt in a long time.  The Sandaime Hokage told him that the village was his family now, and while Iruka had always believed that, he’d never really felt that others shared the sentiment. Now, though, as he watched Itachi scold Sasuke for taking a too-big bite, he felt like he understood what Sarutobi-sama meant a little better. 

The Uchiha Family may not be his parents, or related to him by blood at all, but he still cared about them and would give anything to protect them. 

That’s what the Will of Fire was, he thought. A burning desire to hold onto the warmth and companionship that made the world less lonely, and protect it fiercely, even to your dying breath.  Here, in this moment, surrounded by the warm familiarity of Itachi’s family, Iruka knew he’d do whatever it took to protect them, to preserve this moment, and all the moments like it that would come in the future.  It didn’t matter how many times he got stabbed or how many enemies he had to face, he reflected, watching as Sasuke swatted at Itachi’s hands when the older brother took a small hand towel and tried to wipe his face with it. This was what he fought to protect. And even if this family wasn’t really his own, somehow, in a small way, he’d been welcomed to be a part of it. And that kindness was worth fighting for.

Even if it was pretty annoying that  _ he _ was the one who got stabbed for it. Maybe next time it would be Itachi’s turn to get stabbed.

Or better yet, neither of them. 

“Come on, Sasuke, you need to be neat and tidy,” Itachi continued chiding, finally breaking through Sasuke’s defenses to scrub at the ink spot on his face. “You don’t want to go around looking as messy as Iruka, do you?”

…on second thought, it was  _ definitely _ Itachi’s turn to get stabbed.

**Author's Note:**

> Ahhh I don't know why this fic took so long to write, it's been in progress since December but for some reason my brain refused to cooperate with it.  
> I'm really happy with how it turned out, though! So that's good. And I managed to finish it in time for Iruka Week, which makes me even happier!! Our boy Iruka deserves all the love, and there are SO MANY great fics and artworks dedicated to our boy this week! Definitely check them out! :D  
> Thanks as always for reading, I hope you continue to enjoy this AU as much as I enjoy writing it!!


End file.
